


Book 1: A Cursed Encounter

by Isuvviaraq



Series: The Beautiful Beast [2]
Category: No Fandom, 陰陽師 | Onmyoji (Video Game)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Forced Marriage, M/M, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-15
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-13 17:42:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18473884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isuvviaraq/pseuds/Isuvviaraq
Summary: “Actually, you’re lucky that I caught you... ‘Why?’ Because I’ve burned your village to the ground, along with the villagers!”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please take note of the tags for possible trigger warnings. This story starts out dark and will take more dark turns as the series goes on.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiroshi Sato returns from an errand and is confronted by the demon Yasha. A demon who proudly declares himself the murderer of Hiroshi's family and village.
> 
> Brokenhearted and enraged, Hiroshi curses the demon for his sins, but his careless wording gives Yasha's twisted mind a few salacious ideas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please take note of the tags for possible trigger warnings. This story starts out dark and will take more dark turns as the series goes on.

                        I walked along the beach on my way back from Kyoto, the commission from my father’s latest printing in my satchel. The sun was just a few inches above the horizon, and the water glittered like the flashing backs of leaves on a great bough in summer. All this, and the rich, sweet aroma of woodsmoke clouding the shore, made the night seem magically peaceful.

            I sat down on a little knoll of grass where the woods met the sand to watch the sunset, allowing my thoughts to wander, the sound of surf filling up my head like music. Thus, an involuntary squeal leapt from my throat at the intrusion of another voice.

            「オイ、てめえ！」　the call came from behind me. “Hey, you!”

            I twisted about to face the source of that heavy, baritone voice. The figure behind me was...

            He was a demon. I seemed to know it from the moment I saw him, but that wasn’t what I thought at first. My first thought was that he was beautiful. His hair was long, silky, and an unnatural violet that matched the most distant clouds on the horizon. His features were fine and angular, of regal set. For a moment, I almost couldn’t tell whether he was a man or a woman, but the lean, well-defined torso left no room for question. He had a kimono draped across his back and shoulders, and the bones of some reptilian creature clamped on at the right shoulder. A choker fitted with similar bones adorned his neck, and his hands were sheathed in gloves of purple silk.

            Instinctively, I staggered to my feet, slinging my pack back onto my shoulder. My tongue faltered, further parts of his appearance coming into focus. In his hand, he held a long staff with some kind of wicked blade at the top. His eyes were narrow and sharpened to a point that seemed to deflect the gaze of onlookers.

            Finally, my eyes came to rest on the dark horns that darkly sprouted from his head, their sharpened points a match to those sardonic eyes. He was…

            “An evil spirit...” I hardly noticed the summation trickling from my own lips, but it didn’t escape the creature in front of me.

            “’Evil spirit’?” He repeated, a delicate eyebrow creeping upward. “Huh... that’s what humans seem to call me. “Funny…” He took on a wistful look, gazing off into the distance. I inhaled a sharp gulp of air. It was hard to reconcile the beauty of the face in front of me with the animal fear that shook my very blood like a windchime.

            “I haven’t heard those words lately. I’d almost forgotten them. Because the people who called me that all ended up...” A pearly, tooth-filled grin spread over his face, and then split in a fit of raucous laughter.

            “What’s...” I began, but bit off the sentence when his gaze flicked back to me. He’d already guessed at my meaning.

            “Nothing,” he purred in a slick, almost gloating tone of self-satisfaction. “Just the looks on their faces when I...” He broke off, his gaze resettling on me even more intensely than before. “You... You’ve only just gotten back, haven’t you? How could I not have noticed...” There was no doubting he was a man now. As well as the jarringly masculine sound of his laughter, he referred to himself with 「俺さま].　 _Ore-sama._ I’d only heard such arrogance described in fairytales about corrupt samurai and...

            夜叉

            The demon Yasha.

            I was quick to tighten my lips at the realization. Yasha had been the terror of fishermen in my village since before my parents were born, and we were warned never to utter his name within sight of the shore. He seemed not to notice my distress and carried on unperturbed.

            “Actually, you’re lucky that I caught you.”

            I wasn’t too sure about that. “Why?”

            “‘Why?’” Yasha mocked, grinning. “Because I’ve burned your village to the ground, along with the villagers!” His voice...

            He was happy. Delighted. Excited as a child, bursting to tell someone about his beetle collection. ‘Look, look! It’s a Kazoku Ash-beetle!”

            Reigning in his enthusiasm, Yasha flipped his hair girlishly and said, “So... now I’ve saved you the trouble of another mile’s journey.”

            I stood frozen, almost unthinking but for little pops of thought like the twitches of a gasping fish.

            “You’re lying,” I said finally. My voice sounded so hollow… I could feel my chest thrum with words, but they didn’t feel quite my own as they spilled from my lips.

            The demon arched a brow severely and exhaled a single sharp, staccato laugh. “Lying?” he asked, incredulous. “C’mon, don’t be stupid. Nobody’s gonna be impressed about me killing a bunch of human weaklings.”

            “It’s… It can’t be true…” I breathed, fearing that my shaking legs would fail me at any moment.

            “Sure it can,” Yasha contested with a grin, mirth effervescing from his throat. “It wasn’t even difficult; the first two were practically an accident. The rest couldn’t even put up a challenge after that.”

            There was silence. I could feel every single beat of my heart, echoing through my body. One pounded in my palms and fingers. One pounded in my throat and my temples. One pounded in my knee joints. I had the strange impression that at any moment, one beat would be too loud, and it would uncouple my muscles from my bones.  

            For a moment I felt my legs starting to give out, and I thought it had finally happened. But instead, I spun in the direction of my village and started sprinting. It wasn’t a conscious choice. I barely felt my legs as I ran. I hardly saw the beach sliding beneath and around me, or heard the crunch of sand underfoot. I just smelled the odor of wood smoke.

            He was lying. He must be. He wanted to make sport – to make me look gullible. He would laugh at me for dashing home so fearfully – so credulously. That was fine. At least then the joke would be over. Everything would be right and normal, my family cleaning up from dinner by the time I arrived. Everything would be…

            I don’t remember anything of the journey between the beach and my home. I don’t remember seeing the scarred, ash-laden edges of the village, nor the charred gates and fences of my neighbors, nor the toppled and desecrated shrines outside our local priest’s home. I just remember running along the beach, and then I was suddenly kneeling in a pile of ash, my knees where once had lain the threshold of my house. The ash was cold. The odor of woodsmoke prevailed, but the last embers had long since died away.

            Something in my head was telling me, ‘this is our house,’ but the rest of my thoughts were sloshing with doubt. There was nothing familiar in this square heap of ash and blackened sticks. Nothing to prove I had ever dwelt in this place. Nothing…

            But looking up, across an expanse of brown and dead grass and trampled flowers, I saw a wall. A wall of cobblestones without mortar. I recognized it by sight. I had helped my father and older brothers to build it when I was six, so we could have some privacy to enjoy our garden on warm summer nights.

            Slowly, I looked over my shoulder.

            I was foolish to assume that Yasha had followed me all this way. And yet, when I saw him there, it didn’t even occur to me to be surprised. Like I had been expecting him. He had stuck the head of his spear into the ground just a couple meters behind me and now leaned casually against it, watching me with a mixture of mild amusement and sardonic interest.

            “They… They might have…” I stammered, and then swallowed to try and wet my throat. My whole mouth felt sticky and dry. “At least some of them might have gotten out.”

            Yasha shook his head slowly. “No, not from this house. That happened with a few others, but… I caught up with them before they got very far.” He shrugged, this being rather meaningless trivia to him.

            I turned myself to face him, still on my knees. “You missed me, though. I wasn’t here to start with, and you said you never noticed. Some more could…”

            I ground to a halt as Yasha began shaking his head again. “It was late at night. Only two people – the two I started with – were out of doors at the time, and only because they had a midnight tryst together. You’re the only human to set foot on the island since then.”

            My eyes drifted away from the demon, settling on nothing in particular. My family… My village… My life… It felt as though my body were coming unstitched from reality itself.

            “My parents… did they…”

            The demon looked up at me again. “Did they what?”

            I swallowed again. By now the motion had become painful. “What happened? How did they…”

            Yasha rolled his eyes. “Well that was a while ago now, and the details are kind of fuzzy. But…” He rolled his neck as though to stretch out a kink. “If I remember right, he was the one who came out holding a broom like a sword. Probably woke up from the neighbors’ screaming.” Without interrupting his stretch, he jerked his head to one side to indicate the ashes of the next house down the road.

            “Anyway, he came running at me while I was walking up to the house. I kicked him in the chest, and he went flying back inside. Two younger men, a woman, and a girl started crowding around to see if he was dead yet, so I set fire to the front and back entrance while they were busy. Even when doors were lighting up, they couldn’t convince the woman to even _try_ to escape. I guess she-”

            I’d had enough. I launched myself off my feet at the monster in front of me and drove my fist into his chest. He didn’t try to stop me. And he didn’t move a centimeter when my first struck.

            I followed the first punch with another, this one to his sternum. Again, he didn’t react. His eyes showed the faintest glimmer of contemptful pity, but nothing more. Undeterred and brimming over with blind fury, I threw blow upon blow against his body, wailing on him until my fingers blossomed with pain, as though my knuckles were cracking. I could just as well have been punching a tree.

            Finally, balled fists pressed to his chest, I leaned my head against him, panting for breath.

            What was I doing? What did it matter now?

            I hung my head and whispered a quiet, dismal question. “Why? Why did you… do it?”

            I felt a puff of air brush against my hair as he returned an understated scoff. “‘Why?’ Again? No real reason. I felt like it, so I did.” He was too mocking – too dismissive – to be sincere. “Anyone ever tell you, you talk too much?” At this change of theme, and a concurrent shift in his muscles, I cringed downward without backing away. But Yasha had only been getting more comfortable in his perch against the spear and laughed at my reaction. “Oh, don’t worry. I don’t mind you talkative types so much. It’s the cold, silent people who don’t like to speak that I can’t stand.” Toward the end, his voice dropped into a resentful purr. He seemed lost in his own little world while he spoke, as though he either didn’t notice my grief, or couldn’t fathom that it had anything to do with him.

            Uncertainly, I looked over my shoulder at the mass of ash behind me. Again, I had that sense of disassociation. That chaotic, charred heap… It looked nothing like a house. It didn’t look like it had ever even _been_ a house. Was this really it?

            But once again, my eyes tracked their way to the garden wall. I could see, close to the eastern-most extremity, a stone that was distinctly redder than any of the nearby stones. It was one I had chosen while building the wall because I thought it would look prettier there, even though it wasn’t quite the right shape. I remembered my mother insisting that Dad let me put it there because my argument was “consistent with the basic principles of flower-arranging.” In gratitude, I used to walk out into the woods every year on Mother’s birthday, pick the prettiest wild flower I could find, and slip it into one of the larger chinks in the wall surrounding that reddish stone.

            I pulled my gaze away and rested my forehead on the demon’s chest. The memories sent a pang through my heart. “Please,” I begged, feeling the first rolling beads of teardrops trailing down my cheeks. “Please, just… tell me. Please.”

            For a moment, all was quiet. I could feel the demon’s chest rise and fall under my hands. Finally he took one big breath and sighed wearily. “Alright. Since you’re so curious…” His gloved fingers held my jaw and lifted my chin to meet his eyes. His expression was entirely mirthless now. It could almost be called stern. “I’ve never had anyone. I have no home. No family. No friends. Get it?”

            My mind was blank. We stared at each other. My heart started to beat faster. My face and chest grew hot. I tried to dig my nails into his skin, but they slipped off like marble without leaving a mark.

            He had been… lonely? Envious? He’d done it all just for that?

            I was trembling again, gritting my teeth, chest heaving, eyes burning hot and gushing tears. “Bastard,” I muttered. Then I wrenched my face out of his grip and screamed, “Bastard!” He raised his eyebrows, but otherwise remained impassive as my hands clawed and scrabbled up his chest, seeking purchase, eventually coming to grip the bones of that bizarre skeleton that ornamented his kimono. “Curse you! I curse you, demon Yasha!”

            His lips parted slightly and formed the shape of a noiseless syllable. Then he threw his head back and started howling with laughter. I snarled and tightened my grip on those bones, but he just kept laughing. “Now that’s something!” he managed to get out at last. Then once he’d reigned his amusement under control, he clarified: “Countless people have tried to curse me behind my back, but you’re the first one to try doing it to my face. You’ve got guts!”

            The compliment, the glimmer of respect in his eyes as he said it – they both disgusted me. It was just another sign of how oblivious this monster was to anything civilized and decent. He was a capricious fiend; he’d slaughtered my entire village out of some spiteful whim. And now, when I stood grabbing at his clothes and deliberately provoking him, he was amused – even delighted.

            Casually, like we were old friends slacking off from work to talk behind the stable, Yasha raised his arms up and folded them behind his head, leaning back against the pole of the spear. “Alright then. _How_ do you curse me?” he asked conversationally.

            I had to think. Of course, my first thought was that I wanted him to suffer like I had. But that would be impossible. This barbarian with no notion of empathy could never have his heart broken; he had no heart to break. He’d said himself that he had no friends or family. What did he have that could be attacked?

            _“How do you curse me?”_

I dragged myself closer, our noses nearly touching as I hissed at him. “May you lose… everything that you’ve not already taken from me. May you lose your dignity, shatter your pride, and die naked and cold.”

            Once again, Yasha appeared more intrigued than offended by my words. His eyes rolled this way and that in consideration. I noticed that he had leaned back even further at some point, and I now had to brace my elbows against his abdomen to keep my balance.

            “Interesting,” he said mildly after a while. “But… you mention ‘dignity’ as something distinct from ‘pride.’ What sort of ‘dignity’ are you talking about?”

            My knuckles went white as I gripped the bones, perhaps thinking that if I squeezed tight enough, I could throttle him. “You think you’re so fucking high and mighty and manly. You actually call yourself _ore-sama_ like some egotistical freak! And then you talk about other people like they were… were ants! I’ve never met anyone so arrogant!”

            In the silence that ensued, I had to wonder for a moment how he could stand there not reacting with someone shouting in his personal space like this. His cool eyes just blinked, and he continued to lounge with arms resting behind his head. Gradually, a sly smirk began creeping onto his lips. “I see.” The tip of his tongue emerged, wet his lower lip, and then withdrew. “That’s pretty good, actually. My masculine dignity _is_ pretty important to me, it’s true. Well observed. And… I noticed that just now, you were also calling yourself ‘ore.’ Guess that ‘masculine dignity’ is pretty important to you too.”

            I grimaced, finding his words and attitude repugnant. “Don’t try to compare us! That isn’t what I-”

            “So that being the case,” Yasha interrupted nonchalantly, “if I wanted to invalidate that curse of yours, I could do it pretty easily by just taking that dignity away from you. Right?”

            …

            I caught his meaning immediately. In fact, I seemed to clue in before he’d finished speaking. So I should have been afraid. Should have apologized. Should have run. Should have… seen it coming.

            But I was so angry, so distraught, so… off balance. Though I heard his words and understood their meaning, I misread their intent. It just didn’t _sound_ like a threat just then. It merely sounded… inappropriate. Like he’d made a racy joke at a wedding.

            I pushed myself a step back and slapped him in the face with all the force I could muster. Then I clutched my palm and groaned in agony, thinking I must have fractured the bones in my hand. Yasha’s smirk stretched wider until it became a predatory grin, without so much as a welt to show where my palm had struck.

            “Oh yeah. I think that’s what you need. You’re a bit more feisty than what’s good for ya.”

            Again, instead of retreating, my temper just flared up at his mockery. At the sound of his voice. At the presumptuous familiarity with which he spoke to me. I threw one last punch, deciding that if I could just draw one drop of blood from him, it would be worth breaking every finger I owned.

            But the blow never landed.

            Yasha casually batted my hand aside before it could touch him, took a step forward, and shoved me one-handed. I stumbled backward and nearly tripped when I felt my foot settle in something thick and soft. I looked down to see my leg protruding from…

            In a mixture of rage and horror, I charged howling at the demon yet again, thinking to close my aching, crackling fingers around his throat and throttle him in front of my family’s ashes. At the last second, he lifted a hand and fastened his fingers into my hair, then forced me to bow in front of him. I screamed and called obscenities. I clawed at his fingers fruitlessly to make him let me go. But Yasha just started walking out into the road, dragging me along while I spat venomous threats at his back.  

            But then, I noticed from behind that Yasha was dragging his kimono from around his shoulders, and it started to dawn on my addled mind that there was something disturbing about the motion. Once in the center of the road, he flared the garment out one-handed and spread it across the ground like a blanket.

            “What are you…” I began, but my question was cut short. Lazily, the spirit dragged me by the hair in a wide arch that sent me staggering, letting me go just as I lost my footing and went tumbling upon the outspread garment.

            I landed hard on my back, having some of the air knocked out of me. Too late, my brain finally made the connection between the demon’s threat and what was happening now.

            I was just scrabbling to get back to my feet when Yasha descended, laid one hand on my shoulder, the other on my waist, and shoved me roughly back to the ground, laid flat out on my back. “Wait!” I yipped. But the hunger gleaming in the demon’s gaze brooked no negotiation.

            I curled all my limbs up in front of me to keep him from getting any closer. His hands took hold of my knees, pulled them wide, and held them apart so his hips could slide between them.

            I jammed my hands against his chest, howling as pain burst in my palms and fingers. Yasha pulled my arms out of his way, raised them over my head, and pinned my wrists down with one hand. With his free hand, he started to tear my clothes right off my body like they were paper.

            “Stop!” I called as he ripped open my kimono. The last of the sunlight faded from the dimming horizon.

            His fingers dug right through the fabric of my hakama, took hold of the knot of my fundoshi, and ripped them both away with a single pull.

            “No, please!” I yelled, trying fruitlessly to pull my limbs out of his grip to protect myself. “I’m sorry! I take it back! I take it all back! I withdraw the curse, alright? You d-don’t have to do this.” My elbows were about the only things I could move, but I couldn’t even cover my face with them.

            Our eyes met. I could feel fresh tears on my face, drawing lines back to my ears. Yasha scoffed and licked his lips. “That’s sweet. It really is. But you’re already stuck with your fate.” With all of my clothes out of the way, he now reached down and yanked his own loincloth away. Something fleshy and warm thudded upon my abdomen and drew my gaze downward.

            My thrashing came to a sudden halt while I gaped in terror. That thing… that… _thing_ …

            The demon’s member was nearly as thick as my wrist and every bit the length of my forearm. As I watched, that monstrous organ pulsated once, and I felt its mass slide against my skin. Beneath it, a smooth, weighty sack like two mochis smushed together rubbed against my crotch and hid my own member from view.

            I turned my frightened gaze back to Yasha’s face, only to find that he’d been watching my reaction all this time and was now grinning smugly at my gaping expression. “Impressed?” he asked and took hold of his cock to start tapping it against my belly. “Bet none of your ‘boyfriends’ in this backwater village could compare. Aren’t you a lucky girl to experience something so magnificent?”

            Again, though I heard his words and knew what they meant, I failed to draw any actual sense from them. He was grabbing my hips with both hands now. I tried to reach up and push him away, but some invisible force was keeping my wrists pinned to the ground where he’d set them. He lifted my hips, and I shuddered as his cock slid down over my crotch, disturbingly warm and almost humid against my skin.

            “I’m not a girl!” I yelped in a sudden access of panic.

            “You will be soon,” Yasha answered, then started to grind his member up against my buttocks and under my scrotum. In an undertone he added, “Fuck, your skin’s smooth enough for a girl’s. I’m gonna have fun with this.”

            “Please!” I sobbed, straining to wrest myself from his grip, feeling my every fiber tense up. “Please, it’s not possible… That thing will kill me!”

            “Then you’ll die,” Yasha said indifferently, carefully lining up his organ with my clenching rectum. “No loss for me… If I were you, though,” he prodded his tip against my hole and grinned at my frightened whimper, “I’d relax and try to enjoy this.”

            With no further preamble, a savage pain tore into my body. The scream brought forth was so big that it became a wheezing, choking gasp, and my vision went black for a few excruciating seconds.

            “Amazing…” As my vision returned, I saw Yasha shape that word with his lips, but I couldn’t hear it. My body began, too late, to repel the invader, squeezing tighter and tighter, making the pain more and more unbearable. Then Yasha braced his arms above my head and shifted his weight forward. His phallus slid even deeper into me, and now I force the scream out, feeling it rip through my mouth. I strained against my invisible bindings to cover my eyes, to cover my mouth, to grip my temples, to shield myself. But my wrists were rooted in place, and there was nothing I could do. As Yasha forced his flesh inch by inch into my body, I was sure I was going to die.

            Suddenly, a pair of warm digits began to press into my chest, arms, and shoulders at specific points – points I knew to be pressure points from my only ever visit to an acupuncturist. My arms, back, and hips suddenly all went slack. The pain fell almost immediately, like a fire being smothered.

            “Better?” Yasha asked casually. I didn’t speak, but my sudden stillness was answer enough. He turned another mocking smirk on me and rubbed his thumb along my lower lip. “Good. This won’t be any fun for me if you pass out before I’m finished. You’ve still got half my dick to take.”

            I gasped, staring at the demon, looking for some sign of guile or irony and finding only satisfaction and gloating confidence. Then my gaze trickled down over the chiseled, lean torso, his skin glinting with a thin film of perspiration in the dim moonlight. And there, in the space between my crotch and his smooth Adonis belt, rested a length of vein-ridged, throbbing-

            I tilted my head back as far as I could to look over the road behind me and screamed into the settling dusk. “Somebody! Help! Please, some-”

            Suddenly I felt like I had eaten a stone. Pain – now more akin to being punched in the stomach than torn in two – shot from my ass to my gullet. And the pressure… The pressure was almost indescribable. It felt like his member was shoving all my internal organs out of the way, letting it make a glove out of my body. Every labored breath I took, I could feel my muscles twisting and flexing against the demon’s flesh. When Yasha started to move again, grinding his hips hard into my rear, I could actually _feel_ his dick stirring up my insides. All of a sudden, my dignity – my very humanity – was like an apple with a bite missing. Yasha’s cock was _wearing_ my body like a garment.

            I returned my gaze to his face at the sudden pounding of his fists into the ground either side of me. His eyes were rolled back, mouth agape, back arched rapturously. A groan leaked out steadily as his eyes closed and he started to remaster himself.

            “That’s… fucking incredible!” Yasha groaned. He slowly pulled his hips back a few inches, then bucked forward again.

            “Hiii!” I squealed, but my cry was drowned out by Yasha’s own groan of delight.

            “Fuck!” he enthused, flexing his cock inside my body. “I’d always thought… that my first time would be with a girl.” He grabbed my forearms where they remained locked above my head and squeezed them tight while his hips started to build up a slow rhythm, sliding back and forth into me. “I’m glad it was you, now. No way any girl’s twat could be this tight without breaking. Your ass is the perfect fuck toy!” His next thrust after that was so vicious it set my teeth to chattering.

            I wheezed and gasped and agonized, and I fruitlessly tried to reign my voice under control. But the sensation of pain was starting to diminish. The pressure was still there, nigh indescribable, but it was as if my body were yielding, turning my inner matter into heat and friction and some kind of electric charge that felt… that almost felt…

            No.

            I couldn’t say that. It wasn’t the truth. And even if it were, I would never admit it.

            I shut my eyes tight, gritting my teeth as tears rolled down my face. Yasha was a monster, a demon, and a murderer. The hands touching me were stained with the blood of my parents, of my elder brothers, my little sister, and everyone I’d ever loved. I was tainted and unclean just for being touched by this beast. I would not further defile my family’s memory by allowing myself to feel even a moment’s pleasure from what he did to me. I would rather die.

            ‘ _I promise you,_ ’ I prayed silently. ‘ _I promise… Father… Mother… Everybody… I will hate him forever. I’ll hate him until I die. And if I get the chance, I’ll try to kill him first – I’ll avenge us all._ ’

            Mercifully, Yasha only needed a few minutes to finish. The sound of his satisfied, baritone grunt at climax crashed over me like the tide submerging an outcrop, and he thrust home with such force it was like feeling the tip of his cock strike the back of my chest. Then he bit down hard into my shoulder, groaning animalistically as he shot his load into my guts.

            His seed was scalding hot, and I fancied I could feel it sloshing into my innards like a tidal wave. I think it was more painful than the bite of his teeth, and not least on account of its volume. It widened the passage that his cock had already stretched out. It flooded all the way up to my belly and made me feel faintly sick, like I’d overeaten at a town feast.

            The demon panted hotly against my skin, his fingers leaving bruises in my biceps. After perhaps a minute, in which he must have pumped half a liter into me, Yasha finally relaxed his grip and came up from my shoulder. “Amazing…” he breathed to himself. Then, bracing his palm against the small of my back, he withdrew himself from my ass. An involuntary grunt escaped me as I felt that monster slipping out, leaving a feeling of cold, dull emptiness in its wake. Then a surge of hot liquid spilled out of my sphincter into a thick, stain upon the demon’s kimono.

            “God, that was incredible!” Yasha enthused. “No wonder your kind are so preoccupied with sex. I feel so alive!” He was still braced over my prone body, but I was staring off into the darkness, feeling…

            It’s only just occurred to me that there isn’t a word for it. See, I was relieved… but I was utterly wretched. I had just reached rock-bottom, so I thought. It was over. I had nothing left to look forward to – no hope that things would get better. But this was as bad as it would get. Just another minute, and he’d toss my empty carcass aside.

             “Hey,” he said, now addressing the back of my head. “Do you think girls feel anything like this, or is it just men who get to feel this good?”

            I decided not to dignify that question. “Aren’t you going to kill me now?” My lips felt parched, my voice papery.

            Yasha made a surprised little scoff. “What? Now? Don’t be stupid; I’m not finished with you yet.”

            An icicle slid slowly between my chilled and into my heart. I looked back up at him, but all I could see in the dark were those faintly luminous icy blue eyes. “You… aren’t serious.”

            The glint of his ivory teeth appeared as a cruel band in the dark. “C’mon, you didn’t think I’d be satisfied doing that just once, did you? When you’re the only warm flesh to be found for miles? Were _you_ satisfied after one round on your first night?”

            I closed my eyes and choked back a sudden sob. I had dared to hope that the ordeal was almost over… In a brief, useless moment, I envied my family. At least they’d not had to endure such a disgrace before the end. 

            “Hey!” Yasha grabbed me by the jaw and shook me slightly till I opened my eyes again. “I asked you a question, human! Were you? Well?”

            And the indignities persisted.

            “Wait…” Yasha leaned in closer, trying to make me look him in the eye while I stubbornly fixed my gaze anywhere but on him. “You aren’t… I mean, you weren’t… That wasn’t _your_ first time too, was it?”

             “Just shut up,” I grunted, my voice breaking slightly.

            “Oh my god… you’re a virgin… You _were_ a virgin! My god, that’s perfect!” I could feel my cheeks burning as his boisterous laughter rolled over me. _Just kill me and have an end to it,_ I thought. “I’ve just deflowered a virgin! I honestly had no idea.” His tone took on a more contemplative lilt toward the end. I lay still with my eyes closed, feeling my heart pound in my ears. Then Yasha leaned closer again and spoke in an upbeat, friendly tone that made my skin crawl. “This changes things…” Reaching up, he made a motion above my hands like snapping an invisible string, and my wrists slid apart from each other.

            With a touch that had suddenly become gentle and attentive, he raised one of my hands up and kissed the back of my fingers, his other hand tracing a finger along my eyes, my nose, my lips, as though looking at me carefully for the first time. The touch confused and unsettled me. I opened my eyes and saw him staring at me with an expression I hadn’t seen yet. An overly familiar, cocky leer like someone sharing an innuendo. “What are you doing?” I said, trying to sound irritated rather than disturbed.

            Yasha chuckled, rubbing the back of my hand with a thumb. “Don’t you get it? I _was_ going to fuck you for all you’re worth and leave you on a heap of your family’s ashes. But if I’m really the first guy to claim you, then I have to take responsibility. Instead, you get to be my bride!”

            My breath stopped. I searched the face looming over me in the dim light for some sign that it was a joke. It _had_ to be a joke. A very cruel, ironic, unfunny joke.

            His feminine face, his boyish tone, his manly voice – as a whole, they were laughably incongruous, but taken separately…

            Yasha lowered himself onto the grass beside me and touched my face. “Looks like luck was on your side twice today, human. And lucky me to get a pretty young wife like you.” I was sure I heard it then – the mockery in his voice. This was some kind of sick game to him – it had to be…

            “N… no,” I breathed, my throat clogged with fear.

            Yasha quirked a brow. “No?”

            I swallowed hard, then steeled myself, meeting his eyes with all the hate in my heart. “I’m not your bride. Never. I refuse.”

            Yasha leaned even closer, our foreheads practically touching. There was something sweet in his breath, like fresh persimmons. His tone became reasonable and mollifying as he stroked my cheek and wheedled, “Don’t knock the idea so quickly. Think about it: I’m more handsome than any man and more beautiful than any woman you’ve ever met in this little backwater town of yours, and I can satisfy you like none of them _ever_ could.”

            “Liar!” I wasn’t really thinking. He had the gall to keep rubbing salt in my wounds, and I just wanted to contradict him.

            Or perhaps I was hoping he’d still kill me out of rage if I made him angry enough.

            Either way… it should have been obvious now that no good would come from pursuing this track of conversation. But I wasn’t in my right mind.

            “What?” Yasha quirked said, unsmiling.

            There was a beat before I realized what I wanted to say, then bulled ahead, lifting one of my injured hands between us to have some degree of separation. “You? Satisfy me? You’re disgusting. I don’t want ‘satisfaction’ from any man; even if I did, that…” my eyes flicked downward; “That… monstrous… _organ_ is more likely to murder me. Just now, I couldn’t wait for it to be over!” None of my words were quite as good as I wanted. I wanted to say something really devastating, but just couldn’t get any traction. And to make matters worse, Yasha’s face was starting to show off that same smug, self-satisfied grin I hated so much, shaking my confidence.

            “Of course you didn’t enjoy it then. I wasn’t _trying_ to make it enjoyable for you. You were just a one-night stand for me.” Then he pushed my hand out of the way, grabbed me by the hips, and drew me close so that our manhoods rubbed against one another.

            I shivered and tried to push myself back. His cock was still sticky, and I didn’t want it touching my penis. But his grip was like iron, and paid no heed to my struggle. “But all that’s different now,” he purred. “You’re my bride, and I’m going to turn you into a pleasure-wracked mess tonight.”

            I turned my head away to avoid the kiss he was about to give me, so Yasha laid it on the side of my neck instead. I squealed, feeling a jolt rush down my back from the contact, then gritted my teeth and tried to overpower the sensation by force of will. “No! I won’t take pleasure from _anything_ you do to me! I refuse, whatever it costs me!”

            Yasha just grinned and tugged my hips closer, deliberately grinding his meat into mine until my teeth chattered. “That kind of attitude won’t make for a very happy marriage, you know.”

            I wouldn’t let him have that one. I overcame the electric sensation in my loins and growled, “We’re not married. I’ve not consented and never will.”

            That got Yasha to stop grinding our members together, but a moment later he leaned back and started howling with laughter. I winced as the fingers of one hand gripped my buttocks even tighter, but he was too distracted to do anything else.

            “Consented!” Yasha gasped once he’d finally caught enough breath. “I forget how you humans like to needlessly over-complicate things. It’s really a very simple matter: You _were_ a virgin, but now I’ve taken your maidenhood. That means you’re my bride for as long as I’m willing to keep you. The rest of your life, you’re going to be either a slut, or a bride.”

            I glared with flaming hatred into his arrogant, gloating stare. “Or a widow.”

            Yasha didn’t even blink.

            “Like I said, a slut.” He was still grinning as he said it, and I was too angry to reply. My jaw must have worked mutely for about a dozen seconds, trying to find a response suitable for something so… deplorable.

            But in the end, I was spared the trouble. Yasha got up onto one elbow, looking down at me. “Alright… I _do_ like a good challenge, so let’s make a little deal.” He spoke in enticing, reasonable tones, and the brightening moon made it easier to make out the chiseled details of his face. “I’ll put your willpower to the test and try to pleasure you to orgasm 3 times before the sun has risen. If I succeed, then you’ll acknowledge our marriage for what it is and be my bride. Fewer than 3…” He shrugged. “What’s happened has happened, but it’ll prove you need more than just me to satisfy you. I’ll let you go free.”

            An escape! That would be almost perfect. I would still be alive… and alone… But on the other hand, if left alive, I could travel to the city again and start looking for a way to avenge my family. I could find an onmyoji who would make Yasha pay for his crimes. I…

            “Alright,” I said. “But one more condition: when the sun has risen and I’ve not cum a single time, _you_ will concede that we never had a consummated marriage to begin with. And you’ll apologize to me – on your knees – for the deaths of my villagers, and for everything else you’ve put me through.”

            I felt rather pleased with this addition.

            Yasha produced a dry, throaty chuckle. “Fine. If anyone asks, I’ll even say that you still have your ‘virtue.’”

            I stiffened a little, sensing something menacing about his tone. “You promise?”

            A spark of glee passed in the demon’s eye, then he raised a hand with his little finger extended. “This is how you humans make promises, right?” With slight irony he recited, ‘If I lie, I will swallow 10,000 needles.’

            I hesitated in the act of raising my own hand. “Also, we have to go somewhere else to do this. Somewhere in sight of the eastern horizon so we know whether time is really up or not.”

            Here, Yasha looked angry for the first time, finger still held out, gaze piercing right through my chest. He waited for so long, I started to hope that he might actually agree. Then he smiled cruelly, latched his pinky finger with mine, and tugged me closer so our eyes were bare inches apart. “No. We can see the sky just fine from here. More importantly, I want you here – right here in front of your childhood home. If this is to be our wedding night, then it ought to be right here…” his eyes slid toward my house’s ruin, “for the whole family to see.”

            “You vile son of a…” By a tremendous effort, I managed to reign back my fury. It wouldn’t do any good now. I had to save my indignation. To bottle it. Instead, I squeezed my finger tighter, fancying that I felt the damp, sticky press of blood still wet on Yasha’s hand, and spoke through clenched teeth. “Deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first part of chapter one (book one?). The rest of the chapter is already written out, but I'll need some time to finish typing it. Some changes may be made, but consider this a preview, or a prototype, to the finished product.
> 
> Edit: I'm embarrassed that it's taken me this long to get these edits out, and frankly ashamed to have found so many. It's my own fault - I foolishly believed that in typing the story up from a written page, I would be able to eliminate more errors than I introduced in the first draft. Not so.  
> I have to finish up the next two chapters tonight, and then I'm planning to rework one scene in the first chapter that doesn't work for a number of reasons. To those who have already read the first book and left kudos, my sincerest thanks. You're more forgiving than I am.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiroshi thinks that Yasha's casual declaration of marriage is utter nonsense, but how can he gainsay the will of such a powerful spirit? 
> 
> Thankfully, a deal is reached. Yasha will attempt to bring Hiroshi to orgasm three times before the sun rises. All Hiroshi has to do is hold out till then, and he goes free. 
> 
> However, it's foolish to expect a demon to play fair.

            The word was barely out of my mouth when Yasha caught me in another kiss, gently biting at my lower lip. My heart leapt with rage and disgust. I shoved my trembling arms against his chest, fought to wrench my face out of his grip. But after a second, my muscles started to weaken. A growing warmth started in my cheeks, travelled down my neck and trickled down my chest. My vision became cloudy, my limbs slackening as if I’d stood up too fast. Then Yasha forced his tongue into my mouth, and a frightened moan escaped from my throat before I could catch it.

            In a daze, I felt him turn my body around and set me down in his lap, my lips tingling with the trace his lips had left behind. My heart felt strange in my chest and the rest of my body.

            It would be wrong to say I felt numb, because I still had sensation. In some ways, I seemed to have a hint of hypersensitivity, but ‘numb’ is the only word that comes close. I was on the ground, leaning back against Yasha’s chest, and his hands were feeling my limbs. He lay kisses on my neck that made me cringe, imagining a line of thread trailing through my skin with each press of lips, stitching me ever tighter into immobility.

            Yasha’s fingers gently kneaded my sore arms, my thighs, and my chest in turn, but my anxiety only grew as the tension in my muscles faded. Soon my body was so relaxed, it felt as though my form only existed at the points where it met contact with his skin. It was getting harder to concentrate on any one thought for very long. When his fingertips first started to rub my nipples, cruelly teasing them so that the sensation trailed in rivulets all the way down to my pelvis, I did weakly gasp for him to stop, but I couldn’t even hear my own words as I spoke them. The sensations swarmed in my brain, putting me in a sleep-like trance. I don’t know how long this lasted. I just remember ‘waking up’ as Yasha began to speak to me again.

            “Well, you’re enjoying this so far,” he said. Then his fingers curled around the length of my member, and a shamefully loud, high-pitched moan escaped just before I could remaster myself. I only realized that my dick had become hard when his hand touched it. The demon’s palm seemed cool against my skin. “Oh, you _are_ enjoying this!” Yasha mused. His fingers flexed down my length, making me hiss between my teeth and feebly clench my legs together. That hand started to glide with a feather-light touch up and down my dick, and so I quickly clamped my lips between my teeth to keep any more sound getting out.

            Yasha wasn’t going to leave it alone, though. Mockingly he said, “That was such a cute sound you were making just a minute ago. Do it for me again, won’t you?” Panting through my nose, I made no other sound. “Oh, I see… Gonna make me work for it, huh? That’s fine.” He gave my cock a squeeze that made my legs tighten reflexively. “I plan to get a lot of noise out of you before the night’s over.”

            His fingers slid my foreskin down slowly, and then his thumb ran against the back of the head. I shivered, swallowing back the sounds building in my throat. I don’t know how long my trance a minute ago had lasted, but it must have been longer than it felt at the time; I could already feel the surging pressure of an orgasm building up in my penis. It was taking more and more concentration to resist it with every passing moment. Pretty soon, it became apparent that I couldn’t hold in both the need for release and my tiny, girlish noises at the same time.

            Making a necessary judgement, I let a few quiet, muffled squeaks slip through with the volume of a whisper. Yasha heard me, nonetheless. “That’s it… That’s really cute, you know? I like your voice.” His speech paused as if waiting for a reply. Too bad. Even if I wanted to speak to him, too much of my focus was committed elsewhere. His hand continued to slide gently over my skin, and I was shivering every few seconds, clenching my thighs to try and keep myself under control. “Why don’t you say my name, darling?” Yasha harassed. “I’d really _love_ to hear your voice saying my name in this mood.”

            Though too distracted for words, I focused all the scorn I could muster into a loud, belligerent grunt and pushed it through my teeth.

            “No?” He was amused. “Alright then. That can come later. I don’t mind if I have to earn it first.”

            “Eee!” He’d punctuated his statement with an especially tight squeeze around my member, and it caught me so off guard that I squealed and clenched my thighs around his hand reflexively. I managed not to cum, but a thick drop of pre emerged and slid under Yasha’s fingers. Stupidly, tears were leaking from my eyes.

            “Sounds like you’re near your limit. Dawn’s still a long ways off, you know. Sure you wouldn’t rather give up now?”

            ‘ _Shut up, shut up!_ ’ I thought. ‘ _I hate you! It doesn’t-_ ’

            Yasha, who up to now had been leaning close to whisper into my ear, suddenly pulled my body even closer and slid his tongue _into my ear._ The sensation was so unexpected and stark that it overrode all my other senses – I just felt that warm, supple, slick organ somewhere so sensitive… I’m not sure whether it was that sensation or the heated rush of my orgasm that made me scream. It could well have been the latter – it was the first ejaculation I’d had since I was 14 and experimenting with myself out in the woods, and it had shocked me so much at the time that I never tried it again.

            This…

            It hurt. Like something was being torn or shredded inside of me. My eyes went wide, and the fog that had been depressing my thoughts was suddenly lifted, fanned clear by the pain. The shots of ejaculate landing on my neck and chest felt like a slap, and I remembered what the sensation signified with a scalding infusion of shame. My scream became a wail, and more tears rolled over my cheeks as the orgasm died away, milked out by Yasha’s digits.

            “Wow, _that_ was what broke you?” the demon said, his fingers finally coming to a stop. “You’re really a freak, aren’t you human? I can’t believe you were even trying to protest your innocence when you’re such a filthy pervert.”

            I didn’t have a reply to that. So Yasha carried on. “Well, it’s not too late yet. You can still prove how much you _don’t_ want me, if you’re still determined.” Again, I had nothing to say. “Alternatively, you can give up now and come home to be my bride like you already know you are.”

            I had no ready reply, yet a response was demanded. I closed my mouth, tried to wet my tongue, then looked back over my shoulder to catch a glimpse of his evil, beautiful face in the moonlight. “Go to hell.”

            He smiled in a way that made me flinch, slipping a hand down to my waist. “I plan to. And you’re coming along for the ride.”

            Yasha decided to change positions again. He took off the kimono that was draped lazily over his shoulders and spread it over the grass. Then he laid me on my back upon the fabric and rested my hips in his lap so I was looking up at him at an incline. I used the opportunity to glare at him. My head felt clearer now than it had before my orgasm, which made sense; my body had been befuddled and frustrated, and Yasha had preyed on that fact. But it wouldn’t happen again. Not now that I had the presence of mind to resist him. He had enjoyed the last victory he would win over me this night.

            “You really do have a cute little dick,” Yasha mused. “Did I mention that?” I tried to kick him, but he was holding my legs in place and simply snickered at my anger. “It’s true. I think it’s adorable.”

            “Just shut up,” I spat, trying to tug my legs out of his grip.

            “What? What’s the matter with me complimenting my cute little wife?” That awful grin grew a few centimeters wider. I fought back the urge to just scream at him. If he was trying to get a rise out of me, I would deny it to him.

            “I think it’s just…” He paused a moment, lifted my hips up to his chest, and kissed the back of my flaccid penis before finishing; “too cute.”

            “Agh, gross!” I cringed.

            “Not at all!” the bastard tittered. “How can I resist my cute, pretty wife and her sweet little dick?” And he kissed me again, this time just above the balls.

            “Stop that!” I shouted, stoic resolution instantly forgotten in my disgust. “Stop! I’m not-”

            I interrupted myself with a squeal as Yasha abruptly sucked my entire penis into his mouth and started sucking hard on it, his tongue darting out to lick at my scrotum. I just kept squealing in a falsetto, thrashing side to side, seized by the irrational notion that any minute now, he would bite down into my flesh.

            When Yasha finally stopped after a few seconds, I could feel my face burning, and I was heaving for breath. Yasha grinned at me, his face just a few inches from my crotch. “So cute… You can’t even contain yourself. I’m able to get you hard again in just seconds!” He sounded so pleased with himself and the way my penis had stiffened somewhat in the suction of his mouth. Probably it was just a mechanical effect. Certainly I hadn’t _enjoyed_ the sudden, fearful, brutal assault on my senses. I made a few quick, stuttering attempts to say as much, but they were too brief and incoherent to be transcribed.

            “Keep squirming for me, cutie. But I wanna see in your eyes how much you love it when I make you cum.”

            Then his mouth wrapped around my cock again, and anything else I wanted to say was lost. Try as I might, I couldn’t keep still. I kept flinching every few seconds to get away from his mouth and tongue, but he held my hips in place. At one point, I pulled myself up in a crunch to push against his head, trying to force him off of me. I might as well have been trying to push over a tree with my bare hands for all the result this reaped.

            “G-get off me!” I gasped. His mouth was too full to reply. Yasha opened his eyes and looked into mine, his head bobbing slightly as he sucked at my member, cheeks occasionally going hollow. There was no particular expression to read on his face, but those eyes had the same smoldering, gleeful mockery he’d flaunted all night. I couldn’t stop him. And as those cruel, gloating eyes became too much to bear, I turned my gaze to look at the moon instead. In a corner of my mind, I fancied I could see Tsukuyomi, the moon god, lifting a fan to shield his eyes from the sight of my disgrace.

            Gradually, as the sensations inflicted on me started to feel less alien, I was able to stop squirming, though I kept my guard up all the same.

            It was now impossible to ignore that my member had gotten hard again. And worse, the pressure I had felt before in my loins was returning. Despite my best efforts to suppress any ‘pleasure’ Yasha’s tongue might give me, my body was responding against my will. I concentrated with all my might. I shut my eyes and tried to cocoon my mind away from sensation, to feel nothing at all in my loins.

            After maybe 15 minutes, my hands were curled into claws over my eyes. Drool trickled down my cheeks, and my throat felt painfully tight with moans I could neither expel nor repress. I wouldn’t last much longer. “S-s-stop!” I pleaded. “Thi-is… isn’t f-fair…”

            Yasha gave that characteristic low, deep chuckle with my cock still in his mouth, and his voice felt so warm – almost hot – as it rumbled through my flesh. I whined and bit my lip, then covered my face with the crooks of my elbows, trying to hold back my release. But whether I tried to actively fight it or just shut it out of my awareness made no difference. The demon was unrelenting, and after another 10 minutes, I was defeated once more.

            If anything, this ejaculation was more painful than the last one, on account of the full contact with his mouth and tongue. My cock pulsed and twitched, my jaw stretched wide in soundless screams, and Yasha’s tongue slid like a writhing serpent over the length of my member, spreading my seed all over it. By the time it was over, fresh tears had drawn salty pen-strokes from my eyes to the tips of my ears.

            Before, I’d consoled myself that Yasha had beaten me because I was so pent up. What excuse did I have now? That Yasha’s skill was too great to resist? That he had drawn the ejaculation out against my will? It would only have fed his ego to hear that.

            Yasha’s mouth lifted from my dick. Carefully, he set my hips down on the outspread kimono, then came to loom over my face once more. His hands pulled my arms away irresistibly so he could take a good look at my face.

            Our eyes met and held in silence for a few seconds.

            “Damn… Human,” he breathed, his voice rumbling through my collarbone. “That face you’re making right now… That’s so erotic.”

            Made conscious of this, I tried to re-inject another dose of simmering, bitter anger into my expression. But it couldn’t be made to overwrite the sense of humiliation and shame and guilt. The harder I clung to my anger, the more that sobs started to build in my throat.

            “Damn!” Yasha marveled. He pressed his hips down against mine, and I felt the hot bulge of his dick, erect against my abdomen. “Feel this? I was only slightly hard while I was sucking your cute little dick, fun as your squeaks were to listen to. It’s your erotic face that got me all hard like this.”

            He was so repugnant.

            Why couldn’t he just get bored of me? I saw him leaning in to kiss me and looked away. The kiss landed on my cheek, held, then turned into a bite with a hot, wet lash of his tongue on my skin.

            “Nngh!” I protested, trying to pull away and only giving him better access to my neck. He bothered me with a few more teasing bites on my neck and collarbone, then leaned in close to my ear.

            “I think it’s pretty obvious how this night is going to turn out… Do you really wanna go through all these formalities?”

            I felt so strange. My mind was like a sheet of paper, soaked to saturation, dripping with shame and grief. I wanted to fall asleep… But no. I couldn’t give in. Not to him. As long as I still had some strength, I had to fight him.

            “And you… could… just easily s-stop tormenting me,” I croaked, my voice so weak and sore it’s a wonder he could hear me at all.

            Yasha offered a breathy little giggle in reply. “That’s just as well. I’m aching to dump another load into you.”

           

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3 to come out no later than Thursday.
> 
> I promise to go back and edit these this weekend.
> 
> Edit: It took longer than I'd meant, but this chapter is finally edited as well. I'll have chapter 3 fixed by tonight.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hiroshi's chances are rapidly dwindling, but the sun isn't coming near quickly enough. 
> 
> If he can't hold his own, now when it matters the most, how will he ever forgive himself? How will his ancestors? 
> 
> One thing is certain: Yasha will grant no mercy.

            “I think it’s pretty obvious how this night is going to turn out… Do you really wanna go through all these formalities?”

            I felt so strange. My mind was like a sheet of paper, soaked to saturation, dripping with shame and grief. I wanted to fall asleep… But no. I couldn’t give in. Not to him. As long as I still had some strength, I had to fight him.

            “And you… could… just easily s-stop tormenting me,” I croaked, my voice so weak and sore it’s a wonder he could hear me at all.

            Yasha offered a breathy little giggle in reply. “That’s just as well. I’m aching to dump another load into you.”

           

\----------------------

 

            I cut my sputtered protests short as a realization struck me: Yasha had done this once already, and it hadn’t so much as made me hard. So all I had to do was let him carry this out, and… At the very least, it would buy me some time before sunrise. I could endure the pain – pain was my friend now; it would help keep me grounded.

            I tried not to flinch when Yasha’s tip prodded against my hole, but my reflexes seized up regardless. The demon seemed to notice the difference, though. “Oh, are you letting me in now? I thought you were going to keep fighting me…” He was so annoying! “Oh, I see… You think that this is gonna be just the same as last time, so you’ve got nothing to worry about. Because there’s no way I could make you cum like this, right?” He pulled me closer to hiss mockingly in my ear. “Wrong. Like I said, I had no interest in your pleasure the first time. I wasn’t _trying_ to make it enjoyable for you. But now, I’m going to be making love to my lovely bride.

            “I’m not _just_ going to bring you to climax; I’m going to show you that your body loves to be fucked like a woman’s, and that you get the most pleasure when your body is massaging my dick. Then even you won’t be able to deny that I deserve you as a wife.”

            Hearing those words, I felt afraid and a little sickened. I was exhausted, both mentally and physically, and Yasha had already demonstrated that he could make my body move to his whims if I left my guard down. How could I fight him…

            The sensation of Yasha’s member forcing its way into my rectum again brought my musings to an abrupt halt. I screamed again, but it was just a reflex. It didn’t hurt this time. I was only surprised. It felt… strange. Unpleasant. A tremendous pressure where I should feel nothing at all.

            “Oh, you just let me right in that time,” Yasha groaned into my ear, holding me in place by the biceps while his hips shifted beneath me. “So tight… yet so yielding. Just as if you belonged to me.”

            A hot, angry spark ran from my heart to my lips like a fuse. “I hate you!” I spat. “I hate you, Yasha! I swear I’ll-” a vicious thrust cut me short. _That_ hurt. Stars danced in my eyes for a moment.

            Yasha spoke behind me, stern and reproachful. “Don’t talk to me like that. You don’t want to be saying that to me when I’m already planning to mellow you out, or I might forget to be gentle about it.”

            These words preceded a minute or so of thrusting, too painful for me to keep my voice held back. He might have been waiting for me to apologize, but I didn’t plan to give him the satisfaction. He stopped eventually, dialing back to a constant, sensuous grinding.

            My screaming stopped, and I endured in silence as that monstrous cock stirred up my insides. The demon’s lips grazed my neck. “That’s better,” he cooed, flexing his member within my trunk.

            It was agonizing to just sit still in this state, but to squirm any more would have just made it worse. So it was almost a relief when Yasha’s hips started to pick up speed, gradually this time. But I couldn’t let myself relax. This was my last chance. Yasha would win – my family’s murderer, I reminded myself – would win if I allowed myself to waver. I clung to my anger, to the memories of my loved ones. I called their names and faces to mind and inwardly swore to defend their memories. I soaked myself in disgust for the monster who even now assaulted me, seeking to defile the last memories of my village. I drenched my soul in hatred until the sound of my blood boiling in my ears was loud enough to drown out the demon’s taunts and jeering.

            When Yasha came, and his member started to disgorge pint after pint of his hot, burning seed into my intestines, my focus was slightly jostled. But instead of a scream, I howled in angry defiance, reaching down and digging my nails into his thighs. The demon’s own fingers dug bruises into my arms where he was gripping me, rubbing his face against the back of my neck and groaning. I managed not to curse aloud, but before he was finished, maybe half a minute in, I felt terribly sick.

            I didn’t get much chance for reprieve even then. Yasha just chuckled once he’d caught his breath, adjusted his grip, and started to pump his hips up into my ass again. “Sorry about that,” he said without a trace of contrition. “Can’t really be helped, though. I’ve been aching for release since before we started, and your hole just feels so _right_ wrapped around my dick.”

            I bit my lip to keep from snapping something that would make him angry again. But it didn’t keep him from redoubling his speed anyway. “Fuck, even after that, I’m still not going soft!”

            It was true. I could feel it, hot and throbbing inside my body, forcing my innards to make room for his girth. His member hadn’t even yielded enough to allow his last load of seed to seep out, and now it was getting pushed deeper and deeper into my body with each thrust.

            I felt a base, deep-set weariness in my muscles. I simply didn’t have the strength to draw on. ‘I’m not fighting him,’ I told myself ‘He’s fighting me, but _my_ fight is only against time. The sun will come before I do. It _will_!”

            With my mind re-centered on my determination and disgust, it felt easier to resist. Yasha had, so far as I knew, used up all of his tricks. I could now brace myself against all of them.

            As the minutes crept by, Yasha would occasionally shift beneath me, or turn my body at a different angle. With what little thought I spared for this detail, I only fancied that he was getting more comfortable or resetting his grip.

            This continued for… It’s difficult to say how long. My mind settled into a kind of trance, diligently rejecting the sensations forcing themselves upon me. At one point, I was even deep enough in my concentration to block out Yasha’s degrading quips.

            I was shaken out of this trance by a sudden jolt – a hot blossom of energetic feeling that engulfed everything between my thighs and my navel in an unbelievable white heat. My mouth let out a scream before I could catch up mentally. In the further second or two it took to realize that the sensation wasn’t pain, I’d already started scrabbling to try and get away from Yasha.

            He didn’t seem angered by my outburst, however. His grip held secure, and I could feel him kiss the back of my neck, either to calm me or to mock me. “Well now, what’s that all about?” he asked, tugging me closer against his chest. “Was it… _this_?” He punctuated the question with a thrust at the same peculiar angle he’d taken before, and the scream was wrenched from me again. It was a sensation of such intensity that only the word “violent” seems to do it justice. But it wasn’t pain. It would… wrong, even sick, to call that feeling ‘pleasure.’ Rather, I would say that it was a kind of raw, tactile eroticism that attacked my body without allowing my mind to mediate. It shook me, stealing away my breath, making me feel weak and feeble as from hunger, though I knew my belly was as full as it had ever been.

            After a moment left to sit and absorb the shock, another thrust followed. My cock lurched, and a spurt of clear pre-ejaculate shot from my member before it’d even hardened.

            “Stop!” I cried, late to realize my danger.

            A light chuckle hummed in my ear. “What for? You finally seem to be getting into it.” This time, instead of a thrust, he slowly and inexorably ground his phallus up into my depths and sent that sensation through me like a long, rolling peel of thunder. I thrashed and slammed my heels against the ground, exhaling an undignified noise somewhere between a squeal and a whimper, stars swimming in my eyes like I’d been struck a sharp blow on the back of the head.

            “Thi-this… this isn-… isn’t fair!” I forced out, having to gulp and gasp for air after every word like a suffocating fish.

            “Not fair?” Yasha queried.

            “You keep using these… cheap… demonic tricks on me!” I protested. “I’m not a monk or an onmyoji. I have no defense from spiritual assault. It isn’t fair!”

            I’d half-expected him to start laughing at me again and come up with some explanation for how it was all really _my_ fault.

            But instead, his movements slowed, and I heard him give a contemplative hum. Somehow, this rang even more ominous.

            “Funny, but now that you mention it… When we were laying out the terms of this little challenge, I don’t recall ever once agreeing not to use every tool at my disposal.”

            “I… but…”

            “But even if I _had_ made such an agreement,” he said, his fingers stroking through my hair, “this is no spell nor demonic trick that I’m using. This is all just mechanical biology. All humans, both men and women, have a little place in their anal passage that… feels good when it’s touched. In men, it’s an actual organ… It’s actually supposed to be easier to find. Yours was pretty tricky, though. You _really_ sure yer not a girl?”

            He waited just until I opened my mouth to argue, then thrust his cock once more into that soft, reactive organ. Caught off-guard, a moan flew from my mouth at just the right pitch to appease Yasha’s ego. And in that position, I could sharply feel the strong, self-satisfied twitch his cock made in answer to my moan. “That’s more like it,” he husked, kissing my neck and grinding harder into me until my whole body trembled in his arms. “Didn’t I _tell you_ I could give you pleasure with my dick alone? I knew what I was saying.”

            I didn’t have time to be shocked, angry, nor discouraged. I had to stay on guard.

            I shut my eyes and returned to the mantra I’d fallen into before. I just needed to hold my inner composure. Whatever noises I made, they wouldn’t matter as long as I could outlast the sun.

            In spite of Yasha’s continued assault on my susceptible organ (my prostate, as I now know), I was able to rally somewhat. I dug deeper into myself, growing tenser and tenser until my body was all knotted up. My member had grown fully erect, and that couldn’t be helped, but I was wound too tight to ejaculate now, even if I wanted. It helped that, try though he might, Yasha couldn’t make the sensation of my ass being invaded feel any less foreign and unpleasant.

            It seemed like a stalemate at first. I think nearly an hour passed in this manner. I was sore and miserable, and my mind felt like it had been scrubbed clean with a hard-bristled brush. Yasha was being uncharacteristically quiet, but I had my own concerns and didn’t spare it any thought.

            So I was taken by surprise when Yasha encircled my chest in his arms, thrust himself in to the hilt, and grunted into my ear as he loosed his third orgasm of the night into my body.

            All the while leading up to this, his cock had filled me so tightly that naught more than a few drops had spilled out. So I could actually feel as this latest load piled up upon the other, pushing it up into my body. Already feeling overfed, I now experienced a dull pang in my stomach. With trepidation, I opened my eyes and looked down.

            My stomach was visibly bulging, and it seemed to throb and grow a centimeter or two with each volley of the demon’s cum. I groaned pathetically for a while, but the effort seemed to make the pain even worse. It hurt to talk. It hurt to move. It hurt to have Yasha touch me _or_ let go of me. All I could do was sit there dumbly while my belly grew sickishly bloated with his seed. Somehow, this orgasm turned out longer than the first to by far. By the time it was over, it felt like I was stuffed into a body several sized too small for me – my own skin felt like a stretched, uncomfortable shirt.

            Yasha finally relaxed his grip, but this brought me only small relief. While I was still sitting there, immobile for discomfort, he reached up to ruffle my hair. “Sorry. That’s embarrassing,” he said, slightly out of breath. “I really didn’t want to cum again before you’d shot your third load, but… you’re _still_ tight, and your voice is just too sexy when you’re moaning from the things I do to you.” I didn’t answer. I didn’t have the strength. “I’ll admit,” he carried on, “you have more stamina than I gave you credit for. Good thing I have the rest of the night to work you over, huh?”

            Experimentally, I tried to mumble something at him. My throat produced only a kind of indistinct gurgling, my tongue stuck in place. For an absurd moment, I wondered if Yasha had pumped so much cum into me that I’d started burping it up. The demon was quicker to perceive the truth of the matter.

            “Aw, I’m so sorry, darling,” he said in that cooing, mocking voice. “It’s been hours and I’ve been pushing you so hard. You must really be parched right now.”

            That did make sense. I tried to move my tongue and heard an audible click as it unstuck from the roof of my mouth. From that sensation, awareness of my thirst spread through my mouth and skin and chest. “Y-… yeah…” I wheezed.

            Yasha picked up a small gourd that had been fastened to a strap on the back of his kimono, pulled out the cork, and lifted it to my lips. For a moment I feared it would be sake, but it turned out to be spring water. It tasted cool, delicious, and purifying. I gulped greedily, without hesitation or reflection, my eyes closed with pleasure at the refreshing taste.

            I only stopped when my belly started to protest the weight being added to its already-stretched capacity. I opened my eyes and lips and pulled my head back to signal I was done drinking. That’s when I saw the look in Yasha’s eyes; he had been leaning forward to peer at my expression this whole while. His face was positively lecherous. God, how I must have looked just now…

            I averted my eyes. “That’s enough. I’m not thirsty anymore.”

            “Aren’t you?” he teased, rubbing a hand over my sore, swollen belly. “Somehow, you seem even cuter with this.”

            I mutely bore this indignity until I felt his hips starting to move again.

            “Now that that’s taken care of,” he said, recapping the gourd and setting it aside, “I think there will be no more interruptions. The next one to cum will be you, my darling.”

            A reply to this verbal thrust seemed appropriate, but my mind could only swim around inconclusively. So Yasha started fucking me uncontested.

 

            Of the next few hours… there isn’t much to say. I had developed a workable resistance-strategy, but just as is wont to happen following a heavy meal, I felt a deep, overpowering lethargy setting in after about 10 minutes. There was no way I could fall asleep in these circumstances, but my mind had lost its edge. I couldn’t focus, so my cock remained hard as a rock, and it felt as though each time I pulled my mind back to its task, I had slipped a little closer to orgasm. Yasha had done all the teasing he wanted for the time, but that only meant there was even less to keep me alert. Now and then I would widen my eyes with a start, find that my cock was slick with fresh pre, and groan with anger and despair.

            In the end, I succumbed. Perhaps I truly _had_ fallen asleep, as abruptly as it happened. I just know that all of a sudden I was screaming, and my erect penis was twitching and throbbing as pearlescent strands of seed shot in careless jets onto the grass. I had lost.

            I kept screaming and screaming, wishing that I would wake up from this nightmare that had ensnared me. But with the last, dismal strand of cum, my scream also petered out. I slumped back against Yasha’s chest, barely conscious.

            My head in a blur, I presently noticed Yasha was speaking again. I remember that he said, “You lasted longer than I expected,” and also that he said daybreak was ‘just another three hours off.’ Almost like he’d meant to console me, if such a thing were possible.

            The very last thing I remember of the human world was the sensation of his lips brushing my cheek, and his deep, husky voice whispering, “I’m going to make you so… so happy.”

 

            In the montage of dreams that visited my sleep, I remember no specific words or visions. Only a vague impression of another’s presence. I felt as if I was with my parents again, and I felt myself smiling. My father’s voice, though I didn’t hear it, was like a warm ray of sunshine against my back.

            But at some point in that timeless haze of colors, I opened my eyes on some shadowy, twilit land without wind. I seemed to be floating, and I still felt warmth against my back.

            Before me, maybe 30 meters away, I saw the faces of people I recognized. My friends from the village, my neighbors, the village mayor, my grandparents, my parents, my brothers and sister.

            I didn’t react to the sight – I knew I recognized them, but I couldn’t say why that was so important. They were all dressed in white kimonos, all expressionless, nobody speaking. I saw that they were all standing aboard some sort of boat or ferry, preparing to cross a wide river whose shore was too dark for me to see.

            Floating along the road parallel to the river, my eyes continued to track the familiar faces, recalling their names without the meaning attached to them. Slowly, I mouthed their names without sound, as if reading an unfamiliar word. Then, in just a whisper, I pronounced, “Father…” and I recognized and knew him. And I remembered what had happened to them all. And I realized that the ferry on which they stood – that even as I watched was pushing away from the shore, was carrying them across the Sanzu River to the afterlife.

            “Father! Mother!” I tried to scream, but my voice was so weak. “Dad! Look this way!” It was like trying to speak through sleep paralysis. They didn’t show any sign of hearing me. I tried one more time, raising my hand as high as I could lift it: only as high as my elbow. “Mother! Look, it’s your son! Hir-”

            In the very last instant before a hand came down over my eyes and swept away my consciousness, I thought I saw my mother’s head turn. Just a little, but deliberately, as if looking for something.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to all who have read this far. Even as far as Onmyoji slash goes, Yasha is a severely under-served treat, and it's a relief to see some people besides just me have a thirst for him.
> 
> Originally, this whole thing was planned to be one chapter, and the whole work would only be three chapters long. But as I started typing out my manuscript, and found that the first "chapter" would run 18 pages, I decided it would be best to sub-divide for ease of readership. 
> 
>  
> 
> Edit: The primary cleaning edits are finished at last. One again, I'm so sorry to those who suffered through the rough copy. It amazes and honors me that some people still left kudos on my work, despite its sorry state. I'm grateful to all of you. I solemnly swear that from here on out, I'll proof-read my chapters thoroughly before uploading them. I hope your interest will hold out despite the delay.
> 
> That said, the first two and a half chapters of Book II are already written, and I'll begin typing up the first chapter this week. 
> 
> Before that gets uploaded, though, there's still one more change that has to be made in Book I; a reader told me via PM that when Yasha told Hiroshi about his whole village having been slaughtered, and Hiroshi accepted this without evidence, it made him seem a little... credulous. A bit dense, to be blunt.  
> And truth be told, it had occurred to me even before then that, with 'denial' being one of the fundamental stages of grief, such quick acceptance flies in the face of conventional psychology. Hence, I intend to rectify the issue before going any further. I appreciate your patience.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first part of chapter one (book one?). The rest of the chapter is already written out, but I'll need some time to finish typing it. Some changes may be made, but consider this a preview, or a prototype, to the finished product.


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